Now Jonah looked sullen. ‘I ain’t saying no more. I never killed ’im, that’s all. I ain’t done niffing.’ He turned resentfully to Stevens. ‘You get me out of here, right? They got niffing on me.’ And he folded his massive arms across his chest and ostentatiously closed his mouth.
Hollis was in Slider’s room, reading something he held in his hands. He looked up as Slider came in. ‘Any luck?’
‘I ain’t saying niffing,’ Slider said, going round his desk to sit down heavily. ‘Now he says he found Paloma already dead when he got there, was so upset he took a drink of whisky, and knocked the table over putting the bottle back.’
‘Really? Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m convinced,’ Hollis said brightly.
Slider gave him a look. ‘It means he’s talked his way out of the fingerprints.’
‘It looks like an open and shut case to me, guv,’ Hollis said comfortingly. ‘I wouldn’t worry. He’ll come clean in the end.’
‘With Stevens as his brief?’ Slider said. ‘What’s that you’ve got there, anyway?’
Hollis proffered it. ‘It’s the additional forensic report.’
Slider took it. The lab had typed the anal swab ready for cross-matching if requested. Well, that should keep Sir Nigel straight and true to his story. There was no trace of any known recreational drug in the bloodstream, and the alcohol was low, 40mg per 100ml, so Paloma was neither drunk nor high at the time of death. And the stomach contents had been analysed as scrambled eggs and toast, eaten less than one hour before death.
‘Well, that’s consistent with the dirty dishes in the kitchen,’ Slider said, throwing the paper down on his desk. ‘No surprises there.’
‘The hearty man ate a condemned breakfast,’ Hollis said.
‘A late breakfast, anyway,’ Slider said. ‘What else have you got for me?’
‘Oh – this, sir.’ Hollis passed over the envelope with an abstracted air of having forgotten he was holding it. It was large, square and stiff, and Slider guessed what it was before he opened it.
‘Mr Honeyman’s farewell party,’ he said aloud. ‘The official brass one, complete with speeches and presentation.’
‘You’re invited, sir?’ Hollis said with a smirk. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Not so fast,’ Slider said. ‘I’ve got to take someone else from my firm.’ He passed the invitation back. ‘As the only sergeant still upright, that means you. If I’ve got to suffer, I don’t see why you should get away with it. I’m not a well man, you know.’
Hollis bulged at him. ‘Me, guv? They won’t want me. I’m a new boy, hardly know Mr Honeyman.’
‘Don’t grovel,’ Slider said coldly. ‘You’re It.’
‘But it says black tie! My dinner suit’s twenty years old. It’s got twelve-inch flares and eight-inch lapels. The Fred West Wedding Suit look. I don’t even know if I can still get into it.’
‘Hire one,’ Slider said brutally.
‘Guv, listen, take Swilley. Give yourself a bit o’ credit.’
‘I wouldn’t do that to Swilley,’ Slider said.
‘Hart, then.’ Hollis seemed struck by his own idea a moment after voicing it. ‘That’s it – take Hart. Not only will it give you street cred, having a bird on your arm, but think how much it’ll annoy the high-ups.’
Slider looked at him narrowly. ‘White man speak with forked tongue. But you’ve got a point.’
‘That’s right, guv.’ Hollis relaxed ostentatiously. ‘She doesn’t mind what she says to anyone, and she’s cracking-looking. And being an ambitious female, she probably won’t mind going.’
‘All right, you’ve made your point,’ Slider said. ‘I shan’t forget, though, how you abandoned me in my hour of need.’
‘That seems fair,’ Hollis said happily, ‘I won’t forget it either.’ He got as far as the door and turned back. ‘Guv, I was just thinking – I suppose Lafota couldn’t possibly have been telling the truth?’
‘Meaning?’
‘Well, you remember at the post mortem, the pathologist-bloke started off thinking the death were much earlier? It was you saying late breakfast made me think – well, it is more like a breakfast meal, scrambled eggs, in’t it?’
Slider was silent. The wrong time of death? Two men on the scene? Could that be the answer to all the anomalies? There was something else, something that made Hollis’s suggestion chime harmoniously rather than jar. He looked back through his mental filing cabinet, and Hollis waited, watching him. What the hell was it? Something he had noticed without noticing, right at the very beginning. Something about the room in which Paloma was found.
‘You were at the scene before me,’ Slider said at last. ‘Were the curtains in the sitting-room open or closed when you arrived?’
‘Open,’ Hollis said without hesitation. ‘The sun was shining in.’
‘You didn’t open them?’
‘Not me.’
‘Who was first on the scene? It was Baker, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t have pulled the curtains back. He’d know better than that.’
‘Shall I check, guv?’
‘Yes, do that. If the curtains were open—’
‘Yes.’
‘It isn’t impossible that someone should sit and watch television at night with the curtains open, particularly in summer – with the long twilights people do sometimes forget to pull them. But—’
‘Yes, guv,’ Hollis said.
Slider met his eyes unwillingly. ‘If there’s anything in this, we’re back at square one, you realise that. We’ll have it all to do again. We’ll have to go over every statement, re-examine the witnesses, re-interview all the neighbours with a new time of death in mind.’
‘No nice goodbye present for Mr Honeyman, then?’
‘Go and track down Baker. And if he says the curtains were open, you’d better assemble the troops to start looking at the statements.’
‘Right, guv.’
‘Oh – Hollis!’
‘Guv?’
‘That television programme that was on when we arrived at the scene. What channel would that be?’
‘That’s The Big Breakfast. Channel Four.’
‘Right. Thanks,’ said Slider.
Honeyman seemed ill at ease. ‘Ah, Slider,’ he said vaguely. He stared at and through him, frowning.
‘You sent for me, sir?’ Slider reminded him tactfully.
‘Yes. Yes.’ A pause. ‘Oh yes. You’ve had your invitation to my farewell party?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And who are you bringing?’
‘I thought Hart, sir, if that’s all right.’
‘Hart? Oh yes. Yes, good idea. Bring a little life into it. These do’s tend to be stuffy. A lot of men together, slapping backs and talking shop.’ He cleared his throat as though embarrassed. ‘You know of course that I’m not leaving?’
‘Not, sir?’
‘No. Well, not this week, anyway. I had hoped we could bring this Paloma case home by today, but as we haven’t – well, I couldn’t go in the middle of it. Especially given the sensitivity of the Grisham connection.’
‘I see, sir. So how long will you be staying on?’ If the case went into extra time, what then? Would they just slip little Eric in the non-active filing cabinet years hence and forget him?
‘I’ve asked for another fortnight,’ Honeyman said. ‘If there’s nothing substantial by then I shall have to hand it on to my successor, but I did want to give it a reasonable chance. I look to you – er, Bill – to send me out in the right style.’ He used Slider’s name with all the ease of a Victorian virgin naming a private part.
‘I’ll do my best, sir,’ Slider said. ‘So – what about the party?’
‘Oh, we had to go ahead with that. There are some very senior people coming, and it’s difficult to get them all in the same place at the same time. It would have been impossible to reschedule at this late stage.’
‘I see.’
Honeyman looked at him almost pleadingly. ‘And what is the
latest movement on the Paloma case?’
Slider felt a cad to be hitting him when he was down. ‘There seems to be some possibility of doubt that Lafota is our man, sir,’ he said; and explained.
Honeyman’s face, which had sunk at the opening words, rose again from the waves towards the end. ‘Oh, I’m sure that can be got over. You must look into everything, of course, but there’s no doubt Lafota was there, and he must remain our best suspect. And while we’re on the subject,’ he hurried on, as though afraid Slider might voice some more inconvenient doubts, ‘I have some information for you concerning an enquiry you put to me.’ He raised his eyebrows and gave Slider a significant nod. ‘Shut the door, will you?’
Slider obeyed. Honeyman sat down behind his desk and gestured Slider to sit opposite him.
‘This is confidential and very sensitive. I’m sure I can trust you?’
‘Yes sir,’ Slider said, a little intrigued.
Honeyman seemed to relax. ‘I know you’re a good chap. The thing is—’ He hesitated, and, leaning forward a little, adopted an unburdening posture. ‘Senior rank has its social aspect, and I’m not very good at being pally. It’s held me back to a certain extent. But I’ve always believed in being open, and I dislike – yes, I dislike very much – the sort of keep-quiet-and-do-as-you’re-told attitude that’s rife amongst some of the higher echelons.’
Slider was now mystified. He could only look receptive and hope that the unburdening wasn’t going to get too sticky. Deeply personal confidences tended to involve a morning-after hangover of the do-you-still-respect-me variety, which Slider had no wish to be on the wrong end of.
Honeyman sighed. ‘I’ve been in the Job thirty years, all but,’ he confided. ‘I was never a high flyer. I was interested in police work, that’s why I joined. But there comes a point when you have to decide whether you’re going to have a career structure, or settle for being PC Plod and going out in a blaze of obscurity. And a career demands a certain amount of compromise. A certain amount of put up and shut up. Tact, diplomacy and the occasional—’ He hesitated again, lost for the right word. Slider could think of plenty, but plumped for tact and diplomacy and waiting in silence. ‘Fudge,’ Honeyman said at last. ‘Well, perhaps not quite that. A blurring of the outlines.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Slider said, to help him along.
Honeyman looked at him sharply. ‘I don’t mean abandoning one’s principles. I don’t mean doing anything wrong. But sometimes one has to be, well, pragmatic.’ He stopped, internally digesting something, and then seemed to come to a decision. ‘I’ve taken my share of stick over the years. When you aren’t a high flyer, it’s expected. But when it comes to being spoken to like that—’
‘Sir?’
‘Look here,’ Honeyman said, ‘I’ve been told to keep my mouth shut about this, but I don’t see how you can carry on an investigation without all the information, and it is my personal judgement that you ought to be told. So I am going against orders. But this must go no further.’
‘I understand, sir.’
‘Yes, I think you do.’ Honeyman scanned his face keenly. ‘Cosgrove did put an enquiry to Mr Barrington. And Barrington did tell him to drop it. He had orders from higher up. There was – and is – a special Scotland Yard investigation going on into a very large drugs network. It is a very major investigation indeed, and they’re hoping to bring down some very major players. The whole thing is very sensitive and very expensive, and if anything were to happen to disrupt it there would be repercussions at the highest level. The Drugs Squad has got undercover people in all over the place—’
‘Including at the Pomona Club, sir?’ Slider put in.
‘Got it in one. That’s why Cosgrove was warned off, and that’s why I’ve been told to warn you off. Any snooping around the Pomona or Yates is likely to tread on certain toes, and it won’t be tolerated.’
‘Warn me off without explanation?’
‘Exactly. That’s what gets my goat,’ he added with sudden animation. ‘Don’t ask questions, just do as you’re told. What kind of way is that to run a department?’
‘I appreciate your telling me all this, sir,’ Slider said. ‘Can I ask you – is Yates one of the big players they’re after?’
‘I can’t tell you that. Oh, not because I’ve been warned, but because I don’t know. But I suspect he is. There’s something not quite right about friend Yates, or my name’s not Eric St Maur Honeyman.’
Slider took that without a blink. ‘It occurs to me to wonder, sir, whether Cosgrove was whacked because he was asking questions about Yates. His girlfriend said he told her he wouldn’t be put off by Mr Barrington’s warning, and that he’d go on asking questions on his own.’
‘It occurs to me to wonder that too. But I’ve been told to keep my wondering to myself. Any questions that need asking will be asked by the great and good at Headquarters,’ Honeyman said with undisguised sarcasm. A spot of colour appeared in each of his cheeks. ‘But Cosgrove’s one of my men. I may not have been with you long, but Shepherd’s Bush is my ground and my responsibility. Well, that’s it,’ he concluded. ‘You know as much as I do now. I’m not going to tell you to leave well alone. But I will tell you to be careful. Your career could be on the line if you foul the scent for the Drugs Squad. Those special posting boys are impatient of locals and arrogant as hell.’
‘I suppose,’ Slider said tentatively, ‘you don’t know the name of the undercover officer who’s been targeting the Pomona?’
‘If I did, I wouldn’t be allowed to tell you. And if I told you, it would be strictly against orders for you to contact him.’
‘Of course, I see that. It’s just that, if we knew what he was up to, we could make sure not to get our lines crossed. It’s easy to blunder into snares when you don’t know where they’ve been set. We might already have caused some upset, simply by arresting Jonah Lafota. If only we could ask him,’ he finished wistfully, ‘I’m sure the officer on the ground would see the sense in keeping us informed.’
Honeyman eyed him through a blend of righteous indignation, years of resentment, and a touch of holiday rapture. ‘I am absolutely forbidden to tell you Detective Sergeant Richard de Glanville’s name,’ he said firmly.
‘Of course, sir. I understand.’
‘It would upset Mr Wetherspoon very much if he were to hear you had approached DS de Glanville. Very much indeed.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of letting him hear that, sir,’ said Slider. He and Little Eric looked into each other’s eyes. It was a moment of contact, of tentative warmth between them. He wasn’t a bad old boy, Slider thought, for an impossible bastard.
‘Good, good. Well, off you go, then,’ Honeyman said briskly. ‘I’ll see you at the party later on.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’
‘At least they can’t touch my pension,’ Honeyman said as Slider headed for the door.
Slider sat down at his desk, hesitated a moment, and then picked up the phone and dialled Scotland Yard. ‘Detective Superintendent Smithers, please.’
It rang a long time before a woman’s voice answered.
‘Pauline, it’s Bill Slider. I didn’t interrupt you in the middle of someone, did I?’
‘Fat chance,’ she said. ‘I was in the loo, that’s all. Is it trouble?’
‘Why should you think that?’
‘When else do you ever ring me?’
It was a deserved barb, Slider realised. He had known Pauline Smithers for most of his career, but her seniority, his diffidence, and Irene had prevented him from seeing much of her socially – which before Joanna might have been just as well. There had been a definite tenderness between them at one time.
‘Congratulations on your promotion,’ he said.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘But you know I only got it because they’re abolishing the DCI rank. They had to do something with me. Shove me up and shove me sideways.’
‘Bollocks. You deserve it. You’ve deserved it for a long time.
’
‘You could have had it if you’d wanted it,’ she said seriously. ‘You’ve got the talent, and you haven’t got my disadvantages.’
‘Disadvantages?’
‘Two of them. Front upper body, left and right.’
‘From what little I know of them, I’m sure they’re a positive asset.’
‘Chivalrous but inaccurate. The point is, if I’ve got this far despite being female, you could have been a chief superintendent by now if you’d wanted.’
‘I suppose that’s it. I didn’t want.’
‘Then you’re a fool, Bill,’ she said briskly. ‘Who d’you think you are, Peter Pan? You want to retire on that salary grade, do you?’
‘It’s not a question of money,’ he began.
‘Then you’ve got a Gandhi complex, which is worse.’
‘I’m good at what I do,’ he said. ‘It ought to be possible to be rewarded – to get the promotion and the pay increases – without being moved into a different job that you wouldn’t be so good at.’
‘Yes, there’s a lot of things ought to be different from what they are. You’ve just got to work with what there is. It’s a fool who complains about the system when he can’t change it.’
‘I wasn’t complaining. I’m happy being a DI.’
‘You won’t be for much longer, chum, when the kids start being promoted over your head, and you’ve got some spotty youth giving you orders. Still, it’s no concern of mine. What did you want, anyway?’
That didn’t sound very promising. ‘I just phoned to congratulate you. How are you enjoying the new posting?’
‘Don’t stuff me, Bill. What do you want?’
‘I need your help, Pauly,’ he said meekly.
‘I’d guessed that much,’ she said. And then, more kindly, ‘Are you in trouble?’
‘I’ve got a case. It was difficult from the start, but now I’ve come up against official silences, it’s escalated to impossible.’
‘All right, tell me the worst.’
He gave her a rough outline of the case, and told her what Honeyman had told him. ‘It occurs to me this undercover guy may have been the one Yates saw talking to my victim. I need to find that out so that I can strike it off my list. And I could use a little more information about what my victim was getting into. I’m groping about in the dark here.’
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